drpswfandomcom-20200214-history
Faerim Saedrian
Handle: Almain Email: mustafakamil88@yahoo.com Description Age: 68 Place of Birth: Amadicia Physical Description: Faerim Saedrian once stood tall at 6'1”. However, the last few years were not good on him and he's now stooped forward making him shorter than he really is. Albeit looking skinny anywhere else, Faerim has a slight pot belly from his late-bloomed habit of drinking. His eyes were once a clear sapphire blue but now have lost some of its glow. Once, a full set of silky dark hair covered his head, now the front of his head is bald and the thin hair he does have in the back is snow white. Wrinkles cover his skin from head to toe, not so bad as others but another testament to his old age. His only saving grace was the fact that he did not have spots on his face or any other part of his body like other old men usually do. All in all, nobody who sees him now would believe that Faerim Saedrian was once a very handsome man. At his age, clothes are close to the last thing on his mind. His set of clothes was filled mainly with long white shirts that stopped short of his knee, and a brown wool coat that stops past the knee. His trousers are many but most are white like the color of his shirt. For comfort, he wears sandals most of the time. Personality: Faerim Saedrian is first and foremost a positive old man. What he had experienced in life made him feel like anything is possible for him with dedication and hard work. However, even though he knew that, Faerim has a tendency of giving up and is a bit on the lazy side.Going along with that, Faerim is a confident man, albeit he has a big fear of losing his life that hinders him to taking life-threatening risks. Faerim is an overall nice man, and can be counted on in most occasions. With his old age came a calm demeanor, and an ability to control his emotion better than those that had not lived as long as himself. He knows that he has a potential to experience another melt down like he had before, and is working hard to prevent that. History Faerim Saedrian was born to what nobody would call a good family. His father works as a strong man in an Inn owned by Faerim's mother, the only inheritance from her dead parents. Faerim's mother was young and working as a maid in her parents' respectable inn when she met Faerim's father, a dashing man full of spirit at that time. Almost at first sight Faerim's mother fell for the spirited young man who bolsters with confidence and big plans for his future. It took longer for Faerim's father to fall with the pretty maid, but it happened and a few years afterwards, they got married. At first, life was great, and Faerim was born to a happy couple. After a few months, Faerim's father left the house with big dreams, to join the Whitecloak and return to his son a proud officer. Then things started to fall apart. A drunken fight started in Faerim's grandparents Inn between two Hunters of The Horn and their followers. Faerim's grandfather got hurt really badly trying to calm the situation, and soon things got worse as a fire started inside the Inn. That stopped the fight and everybody managed to get out safely, but half of the Inn was burnt. A few days passed, Faerim's grandfather never woke up from his knock out and passed away. With half of the Inn burnt and the family grief stricken over the loss of Faerim's grandfather, rebuilding was slow. And when it was done, the Inn would never again rise up to the popularity it once had. Faerim was one and a half year old. With the Inn, their family managed to get by, but life was a lot tougher. For one, Faerim's grandmother had fallen sick. Over the years, the illness got worse and worse. Secondly, it's been more than two years since Faerim's father left to join the Whitecloack, and one and a half year since he had last written a letter. Although not voicing it, Faerim's mother feared that her husband was not alive anymore. Half a year went by, and Faerim's grandmother passed away, looking more peaceful and happy since Faerim's grandfather's death. With that, their family was reduced to two. However, a bare three weeks afterwards, Faerim's father came back. Faerim's mother initial reaction has been pure joy, but that joy was soon turned to despair as she realized that Faerim's father came back a changed man. He had experienced a near death situation in the years with the Whitecloaks. And while his body healed almost to its previous state, his spirit was broken. Thus their life began. Faerim grew up watching his father waste time away with brawls and beer. There's no doubt that his father still loved Faerim, and tries to spend time with him, but the older he became the less inclined Faerim was to spend time with his father. His mother worked had taking care of the Inn, but it was clear that the only reason left why she was still working was because of Faerim. In fact, their mutual love for Faerim was the only thing keeping them together. Something that Faerim would remember and laugh about in his late years was about how both of his parents taught him the same thing, and how Faerim understood it before they even taught it to him. His mother told him to not be like his father with bitterness in her eyes. His father told him not to be like him with regret in his voice. And Faerim promised to himself not to be like his father with fiery determination in his heart. That is why, despite of the hard life he led, and the bad example his father set for him, Faerim grew up a confident and spirited boy, with big dreams ahead of him. His father, seeing this was happy, and he felt hope that Faerim would one day make a name for himself. However, his father did not recognize what his mother did, and that was the likeness of Faerim to his father when the latter was young. Indeed, Faerim grew up handsome and strong, with a face that's an almost exact mirror of his father's when he was the same age. The way they acted, the words they spoke, the things they do, they were the same as Faerim's father at his prime. Faerim's mother just hoped that her son would not make the same mistake. Years passed by, and Faerim spent almost everyday training his Swordplay. It seemed like he had the talent for it and soon enough, he decided to join the ranks of the Whitecloak with a dream of one day becoming an officer. His father saw him off with pride in his chest, but his mother's was full of worry. Almost a year went by, and Faerim had proven the be one of the best soldier in his corps. A gossip started at the camp at how soon Faerim would be raised in rank to be an officer and in truth, his superiors were planning for it. Then, a small scaled battle ensued, a battle that would prove to be Faerim's last. The battle was almost done and The Whitecloacks were winning. Faerim were fighting a bandit and it was clear who was the stronger. Faerim was ready to deal the finishing blow when he suddenly tripped and fell down on his knees. Alarmed, he looked up just to see a sword slashing down at his face. Desperately, Faerim managed to dodge a killing blow but the sword managed to cut deep to his right shoulder. As Faerim shouted in pain, he slowly got up holding his heavily bleeding shoulder. But before he could retaliate or run away, he felt the sword stab his stomach. There was pain, more intense than anything Faerim had felt before, and then darkness fell. A few days later, he woke up in the camp, bandaged in his stomach and shoulder. The army's doctor managed to save his life. His friends and superiors were glad of his recovery and thought that soon enough, Faerim would be up an about, staying true to his reputation. Nobody but Faerim knew at that time how wrong they were. He was indeed his father's son. When the sword plunged inside Faerim, it had missed the vital organs, but the blade of fear had stricken true at his heart. Faerim was broken, just as his father was broken. After a full recovery, Faerim resigned from the army and came back half of the man he once was. When Faerim arrived at his home and related his story, his father felt like he had been slapped hard in the face. Faerim had been his only hope of redemption, but now that hope was gone. What worse, he thought the reason Faerim became like that is because of his faults. Starting from that day, Faerim's father drank more than ever, drowning his sorrows. In less than a year, he died of Alcohol poisoning. Faerim's mother was just flad that her son came back alive, and urged him to get a safe job or maybe even a wife. However for a long time Faerim did nothing constructive, only lumbering around the Inn and doing odd jobs. Until one day he spied his mother crying alone in her room, then he started to get more serious with his work. He found one of his interest, that is in the profession of Hedge Doctor. Thus for years, Faerim became an apprentice to one very good Hedge Doctor and fount out that he was a natural with the herbs. So, life goes on normally, and when Faerim became a Hedge Doctor, it seemed like his mother became content. Not so for Faerim, he looks at himself ten years prior and compared it with his state now, and realized how low his standards has fallen. Soon, his mother passed away from old age and Faerim was left alone. He sold his inn and with the money opened a place where he can practice his herbs lore, and thus began a life of tedious routines and boring habits. Almost thirty five years have passed till then. forty years of the same thing over and over again, of being a nobody. Thirty five years with no accomplishment. Faerim had managed to live decently as a Hedge Doctor, but he was as dull as his life, with none of his youth vigor nor dreams left. He was reduced to a man that lives to survive. One day, Faerim went out to look for herbs and in his musings, found himself thinking of days of old, when he had all those ambitions and confidence in himself. He could not help but feel sorry for himself. Lost in thoughts, he found himself deeper in the woods than usual. Then, he heard some strange sounds, and found a deer giving birth to her fawn. Faerim watched as the newly born fawn tried to stood but fell. However, it kept trying and trying and however many falls it had, it kept getting up until finally, the fawn stood, proud at his accomplishment. Faerim watched that with a startled look on his face, and an epiphany came over him. The fawn, while failing countless of times, never failed to get back up until he finally did what he wanted to do. But Faerim had given up on all his dreams and ambitions after only one fall. One fall! It was so clear now that Faerim didn't know how he had not realized it before. Faerim walked back to Amadicia with his minds working furiously. Inside, he could feel his heart pumping faster, his dreams of young coming back to him, the vigor back in his steps. It was as if Faerim was renewed, washed away of all of his fragility. Then it came to him as he was walking on the main road of a small village, and he smiled sadly. How ironic that he would regain his dreams and confidence at such an old age where he's in no physical condition to accomplish them and might fall dead any day. Despite the fact that Faerim was in a busy village, his eyes started to water and Faerim started to drop a few tears. His chest hurts, and he cried. He cried for how he gave up after only one fall, he berated himself for it, but most of all, he cried for all of the time he wasted. The times he would not get back. Trying to calm himself down, Faerim though, Aah... If only there was a way to extend your life... But of course not... I'd have to live with the fact that I wasted my life... He felt like crying again. Then, he accidentally overheard two women gossiping. One woman said, “Hey, do you know who those people are? The one in the black coats? I think it's those men, the ones that the Dragon Reborn is giving amnesty to.” The other agreed, “I think so too.” Then she sniffed, “Look at them all, so arrogant in their black cloaks. What do they want here? If only the Whitecloaks were here...” Faerim looked at the group they were talking about. They were all wearing black coats and were talking to some young men of the village. Suddenly, some memories began to flood back, of books and stories that told about the One Power and how it affects its users. A realization came on Faerim, and he carelessly dropped his basket full of herbs and ignoring the screaming of his old joints he started to run toward the black coated men with a big hopeful smile on his face. There is a way! There is a way to extend my life! Faerim knew that the chances were small, but for a man as desperate as him, he saw it as a saving grace. With spirit and confidence that he had never felt since almost 50 years ago, Faerim ran to the black cloaks, he ran towards his hope for redemption. Category:Soldier Bios Category:Black Tower Bios Category:Biographies